A talent show
by May La Nee
Summary: Draco feels forced to sign up for a talent show because of peer pressure. I think he did pretty well. Thanks to Clare for betaing and heckling!


"A talent show?" Pansy ripped a sheet of paper off the board and read it aloud; " On the third of May there shall be a Talent Show to give you a chance to excel in other ways than are possible during usual day to day activities. If you're interested, sign up by writing your name and your act on the form!'"

"My God!" Daphne exclaimed; "Potter is going to sing?!"

Draco looked bored; "I wonder what song he'll chose. 'We are the champions'?"

"At least I have a talent, Malfoy" Harry's voice came from behind them. Draco sighed and turned to face him rolling his eyes.

"Yeah that's something your daddy can't buy you, isn't it?" Ron said mockingly.

"And both _your_ fatherscan't buy you _anything_ so shut up about that." Draco responded a little smugly.

"So are you joining, Draco?" Pansy asked. Draco gave her a surprised look, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Crabbe, Goyle and Daphne looked at him expectantly. After a moment of hesitation Draco nodded; "Yes, I'll do some amazing stand-up comedy," he said tonelessly. Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy laughed.

"What?" He cocked a brow; "I'm serious; sign me up."

Pansy looked at him curiously for a few moments, and then wrote 'Draco Malfoy' on the parchment. "Stand up comedy?" She asked. He nodded. Pansy gave him a look; "But…what...if...you...die on stage?"

Draco gave a tiny smirk; "Parents are invited right?"

The bell then rang, and Pansy nodded and grinned then walked off to the next class. Draco's smile faded the moment people weren't looking at him any more.

* * *

Harry was singing 'the Music of the Night' from the Phantom of the Opera… Badly. Draco wished he could block the sound out, but there was no chance of that AND HE WAS STILL WRITING HIS SHOW!

How the _Hell_ was this going to work?! Was he going to improvise the entire thing? That would never... _never_ work! He was _sure_ to die on stage then! His heart was pounding in his throat and there was no way he was going to be able to appear calm, let alone be funny the way he intended.

Quietly he peeked through the curtains, hoping to find some empty seats in the back —no such luck. His parents were present. Ah well – if he really was going to die on stage, at least he wouldn't have to listen to people criticizing him behind his back.

Oh Gods… That was his cue.

Draco walked on to the stage confidently, and took the microphone. "Evening everyone,…" – I believe I need no introduction?" he looked at the room that didn't seem all too amused with him.

He put on a 'girly' voice; "Malfoy's doing _comedy_? What the _Hell_?!" Then he rolled his eyes.

"I know- I know it's a weird combination but I guarantee that you will laugh while I'm on this stage and I'm sure that it will _not_ be because I make a mistake. Understood?" He looked around the room, - a room that was painfully quiet. Some people grinned at Malfoy's self-induced public humiliation.

He didn't seem affected. "Right- me and stand up comedy-...hm. I know you don't have a lot of faith in me but I know- I _know_ I'm meant for this." He nodded. "No doubt whatsoever. I even saw my confidence confirmed when I told my friends what I wanted to do,- that I wanted to do a stand up comedy act… They all laughed at me!" Some people laughed. "Which is _just_ the reassurance I needed to sign up for this and do it."

He pressed his lips together and nodded, as he walked around over the stage. "Yeah… I told them… I also told my Father I was going to do this, that I signed up and that I was going to do comedy. Know what he said?"

He cleared his throat, and said in a voice that actually sounded a _lot_ like his Father's; "Draco… Do you know what comedy is?" The snotty drawl got people laughing; nobody expected him to embarrass his Father on stage.

In his own voice he replied; "I told him; yeah, yeah I know. …But of course he continued _anyway_ because that's the type of person he is. He said-" Again, he impersonated his Father's voice; "Comedy, is where you get on stage to be laughed at. And you- do not _need_ a stage to be laughed at."

Draco nodded and sighed; "Yeah… I first thought he said that because we're high society to begin with." He scoffed in a way that sounded almost sad, and then shook his head.

"M-My Father is er… He's a very _confident_ man. But despite that, he always wants to have the final word. I personally-" he moved a hand up to his chest to indicate himself- "I myself don't mind, you know. I mean; he's my Father. I can take not having the final word when arguing with him. My mother adjusted fairly well too; she always speaks to him in a way that allows him his beloved 'final word'."

He suppressed a grin as he continued; "When they talk, _regardless_ of the topic, he always- _always-_ has the final word."

Then, again he switched into his Father's voice; "Yes dear,.. N-No dear, of course not. Yes dear. _Yes_ dear."

Draco sighed in an exaggerated way. "Oh… My parents. Heh. I'm an only child, right? Most of you probably know that. I always wanted a sibling though, just so I would have someone to beat…- best friends with. But erm.. yeah; I'd like a sibling. And one day I decided I was just going to ask my parents because- well that's what you do when you want to know something, right?

So I went up to my mother one day and asked her; Mother... Why don't I have any brothers or sisters?"

He made a face that seemed as if he was disgusted with something. "This – this is the face she made. She went; 'I already have more children than I intended.'"

He looked confused now; "But… but there's just me!" he nodded sadly. "She went; '…exactly.'"

"So… You know, I decided not to press the issue… Don't worry about me though, I didn't cry about it. You know, Pureblood families... Tear ducts have been incested out _generations_ ago. Besides, last time I asked her if she loved me, she suddenly told me she had something in the oven then left… And she doesn't even cook, well…" he shrugged as the room laughed. "I did spend a few days wondering if it was a bun... but nobody took the dust sheets out my old nursery and… Well, for the other type-" he waited for the room to stop laughing enough for him to continue "Yeah, we have a maid for that…" he cleared his throat and muttered "filthy mud blood" under his breath

"_Anyway_. To give Father his oh so beloved 'final word' I decided to ask him too. So I went up to him; 'Father... Why don't I have any siblings?' He gave me a very weird look then." Draco cocked a brow and looked to the sides nervously.

"He went; Draco… Don't you ever wonder why we employed Mary? So of course… I went; Mary? Who's Mary?" In his Father's voice again; "The maid, Draco. Mary is the maid."

"So… I shook my head… I always figured we got a maid instead of an elf because elves are scarce. Not to mention hideous."

He paused.

"Mary… is _not_. hideous. Believe me. She's er… -she's well gorgeous-" he grinned self-consciously- "She's tall,…Long, blonde hair… Slender figure, big silver eyes… Usually wears a French maid uniform…"

Ron elbowed Seamus and whispered; "Sounds like Malfoy in drag!" Seamus and him laughed, but stopped when Draco was looking directly at him. "Shut up Weasel, I don't do drag!" He glared; "…and Father is more of a gown type."

He cleared his throat then, and looked somewhere in the back of the room. Lucius Malfoy was half on his feet, apparently planning to leave; "Thank you for joining us today, Father. Truly a pleasure to have you here." Draco said, and the entire room turned to see this; "No gown today, I see?"

Narcissa Malfoy placed a hand on Lucius' arm, and he looked down at her. He then sat back down; "Notice how a nod of her head is all it takes for him to sit back down. " Then he added in Lucius' voice; "Yes dear, no dear."

He shrugged to the room. "I tell no lies when I'm on stage…"

"Are you a Death Eater then?" Ron asked then, causing a silence to fall over the room. "Oy!" Draco said, and opened the button on his left sleeve; he rolled up the fabric and showed the Dark Mark to the room; "I asked for… a little heart. Right? With a dragon because 'Draco' translates as 'dragon'. But er… Apparently - This guy can't draw hearts to save his life, and he's pretty much messed up the dragon, too."

The room was dead silent. "So- lesson for today; Never trust a tattooist with a mask on." A few people laughed carefully.

Draco then grinned and cleared his throat; " Anyway- where was I? Oh- Oh yeah, Mary. Remember Mary? Tall,…Long, blonde hair… Slender figure, big silver eyes… Usually wears a French maid uniform… And Father asked me if I ever wondered why we hired her.

So; I went; 'No, no I never wondered.' Why would I have, right? And er… he… He nodded. He nodded _very_ slowly. And- you know, when my Father nods, _something_ is up. So I asked him; 'Why _did_ we employ Mary?' At that point he put a _hand_ on my _shoulder_- that's very rare- and he went; 'Draco-have you ever wondered why your mother doesn't like Mary?' Again, I hadn't- Mother doesn't like anything unless it's coated in chocolate or it has a brand on it, so I didn't think anything of it." He sighed and continued; "Yeah… he then told me: 'Mary and you have more in common than you might think.'" He trailed off.

"So I asked him; Father… _How_ does this relate to me not having any siblings?' So then, he gave me the smart look, you know-' he raised both his brows, cocked his face up and nodded very slightly. "Silver eyes drilling into mine…Like that-… and then he said; 'No, Draco… What you should be asking yourself is; How do _you_ relate to _Mary_'." He trailed off again, and looked around the laughing room proudly. "Yeah... I still didn't get it though. I mean; I had a hunch but I didn't think he would have actually-…yeah. So I decided to ask Mary."

He cleared his throat.  
"Mary had something in the oven when I came to talk to her."

Hermione Granger then raised her hand. Draco spotted it, and sighed in a nearly hopeless fashion. "Granger - we _know_ your talent is to be a know-it-all but if you wanted to steal the show you should have _signed up_ for it. Okay? But if you want my autograph- wait until I'm almost done, preferably before I'm off the stage. Judging from the look on my Father's face I won't be alive for long after this."

Some people turned to the back of the room, but Draco decided he was going to be the centre of attention again; "Although... they do always say an artist is worth more when they're dead. I mean; look at Celestina Warbeck!" He sighed and rolled his eyes when some people in the room muttered protest; "I know, I know… She isn't dead yet, but her singing sounds like she's about to! Really – she gets _far_ more credit than she's worth. You know that awful song? She warbles it like she's- You don't know it?"

Someone in the front row shook his head; "Right er-" He put on a voice that sounded as if he was in pain; "_Oh come and stir my cauldron! And if you do it right! I'll boil you up some hot, strong love! To keep you warm tonight_! You know? That crummy song? Yeah. She gets far more praise than she's worth. Never mind money. Also because…Well, -… You know-… if foreplay was as easy as stirring someone's cauldron, I think Snape would be a lot more fun to be around."

The room pissed themselves laughing, and Draco felt a bit more confident.

"_ANYWAY_. _Mary_ had something in the oven when I came to talk to her. Guess what; it wasn't food."

He paused.

"It wasn't my Father's, either."  
Some people laughed carefully.

Draco winked; "...told you she was gorgeous."

The room went silent and a few people looked at Draco in disgust.

"Ah come on you lot! You know I'm kidding, right?" He scoffed.  
The room wasn't exactly laughing. "No? Well of course I am!"  
It was quiet for a moment.

Draco chuckled slightly; "We don't even _have_ a maid named Mary!"  
Some people sighed in relief, other people mumbled.  
"No! Really!" Laughter was audible in his voice and he shook his head. "Her name is Olive!"

The room laughed.

"…and really, you shouldn't believe Olive what you hear from a comedian!" He gazed into the back of the room for a moment; "McGonagall is giving me a look-… What's she-..?" He waggled a brow and pouted his lips at her. "No wait, wait… Oh! I thought she was-… Never mind that, I thought she wanted to er-…but she's actually saying my time's almost up!"  
"Professor McGonagall… She's very- _in control _ of her facial expressions, and her tone is _always_ the same! She does the best innuendo, really. I remember one day, one day she said; 'Do _not_ whip out your wand until I tell you to!' ...and then there are people wondering why she's still a virgin- No offence professor, we can sort this out back stage in a minute." He winked at her.  
"Yeah... This is it from me today. Hope you enjoyed- if you want my autograph please line up _before_ I get off stage because er... Someone's pointing their wand at me from behind the curtains at the moment…" he looked to the side nervously "I can't tell you who it is, but he's _not_ wearing a gown."  
He grinned; "Er- if you want to meet up after the show; the family crypt is in the far back of our gardens! Thank you!" He raised a hand – no way he was bowing to these suckers- and left the stage.


End file.
